


A Taste of Home

by meleedamage



Category: Captain America (Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Banter, Bedroom Sex, Bizarro Slow Burn (Suspend Your Disbelief), Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Finger Sucking, First Aid, Making Out, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Pie, Post-Coital Cuddling, Shameless Smut, Steve Rogers Feels, Stress Baking, Strip Tease, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wakanda, Whipped Cream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 11:15:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8283926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meleedamage/pseuds/meleedamage
Summary: Steve Rogers is struggling to adjust to life in Wakanda after his oldest friend's voluntarily return to cryostasis and the implosion of the Avengers. Darcy Lewis is stress-baking and fighting with uncooperative appliances. Is her pumpkin pie the secret recipe to happiness for two lonelyhearts far from home? Steve's got the whipped cream and he's eager to find out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was hoping to post this for Canadian Thanksgiving but I went into overtime. If you're reading this, I'm thankful for you. Thanks for checking this out. Hope you like it! Let me know what you think. xo

Steve smelled it the moment he opened the door to his apartment. The warm scent of spices wafted through the air, rich and familiar like a taste of home in a strange land. He stepped out into the hallway, following his nose, searching out the source of the enticing aroma. He hadn't smelled anything like it since he'd arrived in Wakanda with Bucky. Everything about the place seemed so foreign and he found himself struggling to acclimatize, especially since his oldest friend had voluntarily returned to cryostasis and left him on his own. He swallowed hard and continued down the hallway, noticing a thin veil of smoke trailing out of an open doorway up ahead. 

"Ow! Ow! Owwww! Goddamn son of a rotten motherfucker!" a voice ground out angrily. 

Steve double-timed it and poked his head around the edge of the doorframe. His eyes settled on a flustered, buxom brunette muttering curses and running her hand under the faucet in her kitchen. On the counter beside her sat a picture-perfect pumpkin pie and a cookie sheet covered in charred pastries. He knocked on her door, breathing in the enticing scent of spiced pumpkin and she scowled at him over her shoulder. 

"What?" she snapped in an irritated huff. "Can't you see I'm busy here?!"

"Sorry, ma'am. I just wanted to make sure that you were alright," Steve replied, raising his hands in surrender.

"Does it look like I'm alright?" she demanded. "Of course I'm not alright! Wacky-ass Wakandan appliances..."

"Can I take a look?" he asked, approaching cautiously.

"Yeah, sure. Knock yourself out," she responded, turning off the faucet and extending her hand towards him. He readily accepted, cradling it gently as he assessed her blistered fingers. She couldn't seem to resist staring at his ridiculously handsome face while he evaluated her injuries. _This Wakandan kitchen mishap had just gotten interesting..._

"Lucky for you, it's nothing serious," he said, looking up from her hand into her eyes. "You got a first aid kit?"

She continued gazing at him with a dreamy smile. His eyes were so blue and his lashes were so long and his eyebrows were so furrowed in inquiry...

"Ma'am," he repeated slowly. "Do you have a first aid kit?"

"Try the bathroom," she replied with a shake of her head. "I'm still settling into this place so I'm really not too sure."

"I hear that," he sighed. "We're not in Kansas anymore, are we?"

"God, I love that movie," she replied quietly as her lips turned up into a smile. "And you totally fucking nailed it, dude. This place is a trip. I mean, it's awesome but it's nothing like home." 

Steve smiled right back, flushing with relief and excitement at meeting someone who actually seemed to understand how he was feeling. It certainly didn't hurt that she was an absolute knockout. He glanced down at her small hand in his, suddenly remembering that she still needed patching up.

"I'll be right back," he said, releasing her hand reluctantly. 

She watched as he turned and walked towards her bathroom, letting out a long, slow breath as she stood admiring the view. _Sweet Jesus, was he ever beefy!_ Although, she was doing her utmost to play it cool, the fangirl inside of her was having a full-on fucking meltdown. _How the hell had Captain America ended up wandering into her kitchen?!_ Sometimes her life was just too goddamned weird.

"Hey, uhh, do you want a coffee?" she called out, turning towards the cabinets and retrieving a mug with her uninjured hand.

"Sounds good," he replied, suddenly directly behind her. She let out a surprised yelp and nearly jumped a foot but somehow managed to hold on to her mug. The corners of his mouth twitched as he watched her set the cup on the counter and fill it with coffee, adding cream and sugar. She turned towards him, bringing the mug to her lips and took a long, blissful sip.

"Where's mine?" he asked with a tilt of his head.

"You startled me and I'm pretty sure it was on purpose," she replied, taking another sip. "You're lucky I haven't thrown you out on your ass."

"Fair enough," he shrugged, snatching her mug out of her hand and polishing off the rest. "Let's see your hand."

She stared in stunned silence and her mouth dropped open as she tried to process what had just happened. He set her mug on the counter and gently wrapped his hand around her wrist, lifting it towards him. She frowned, wincing as he took her hand in his and applied a soothing gel to the angry welts on her fingers. He glanced up at her face, checking to make sure that she was alright and loosely bandaged her fingers in clean gauze.

"That oughta do it," he sighed, inspecting his handiwork. "You'll probably want to take some pain killers."

"Thanks," she smiled.

"Anytime..." he said with a flick of his eyebrow.

"Darcy," she replied. "I'm Darcy Lewis, Jane Foster's assistant."

"I thought you looked familiar," Steve said thoughtfully. "I'm-"

"I know who you are," she cut in, rolling her eyes. "Everyone does."

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Darcy," he said, turning towards the door.

"Wait!" she called out, grabbing his wrist. "You don't like pumpkin pie, do you?" Steve stopped in his tracks, glancing at her over his shoulder and wet his lips.

"I hate to break it to you," he teased, "but you're a bit early for Thanksgiving and I doubt they even celebrate it here." He turned towards her and leaned against the counter, watching her expectantly.

"Well, technically, this past Monday was Canadian Thanksgiving," she responded, setting her hands on her hips. "Do you want some or not?"

"You're Canadian?" he asked with a wry grin.

"No," she ground out. "Now do you want some or what?"

"Absolutely," he replied. "If it tastes half as good as it smells, I might end up eating the whole thing. I can cut and serve it. Might be hard for you with your fingers bandaged." 

"Thanks," she said, her expression softening in response to his thoughtful gesture. She left him to it, walking over to the door to her apartment and pulled it closed. 

"So, if you aren't Canadian and it isn't Thanksgiving, why'd you bake the pie?" Steve asked.

Darcy turned around and discovered him casually sitting at her kitchen table. A perfectly-plated slice of pie and steaming mug of coffee was set out for each of them. He'd even managed to scrounge up and light a candle. She stood staring and blinked slowly in amazement. 

"Well?" he asked, looking at her with an air of amusement.

"It's stupid," she replied, walking towards the fridge and retrieving a can of whipped cream.

"Oh, don't leave me hanging," he groaned, glancing at the can in her hand as his mind flooded with a torrent of delightfully terrible ideas.

"Alright," she sighed, sliding into her spot at the table and shaking up the can. She sprayed a dollop on his slice and blanketed her own so thickly that it was hard to tell what was underneath. "Coming here so suddenly left me feeling..."

"Lost?" Steve offered, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Kinda," she continued. "Baking helps to ground me when I'm scrambled. I was feeling homesick and having trouble with my daily gratitude list. I figured that this might help."

"You make a list of the things you're grateful for each day?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied taking a bite of her pie. "Something I picked up in therapy after New Mexico. You know, with Thor... and Loki... and everything."

"I know someone else who does that," he said, swallowing down the lump in his throat with another sip from his mug.

"Bucky?" she asked quietly. He nodded a silent affirmation and took a bite of his pie. 

His mouth filled with warm, rich creaminess, so comforting and achingly familiar. The filling rolled over his tongue, smooth and perfectly seasoned with just the right balance of spices. The crust was soft and flaky, bursting buttery between his teeth. He flooded with a rush of bittersweet nostalgia and memories of times long past, giving thanks with friends and family for their many blessings, sharing with each other when times were lean and simply being together in the warmth of hearth and home. It was easily the most delicious pie that he had ever tasted.

"Holy shit," he groaned orgasmically. "Oh, my God! Mmm... It's so good."

Darcy smiled so wide that it left her cheeks burning as she watched him savour each bite. The hard edges softened as he chewed and swallowed in a blissed out daze, humming softly as the fresh-baked delight warmed him from the inside out. His brows furrowed adorably and his tongue darted out across his lips as he eagerly dug his fork in and scooped out another bite. 

He glanced up, catching her staring and she steadily met his gaze. She wasn't ashamed of how deeply satisfying it was to watch him enjoy something she'd crafted by hand and he couldn't deny that he liked the way she was looking at him. He raised his fork to his lips and took another bite, looking her in the eye as his face contorted and he moaned appreciatively. Her teeth pinched the side of her mouth as her heart started racing and her mind teemed with thoughts of all the other ways she might elicit a similar reaction. 

Steve took another bite, thrilling at the flush in her cheeks and continued his shameless display as he cleared his plate. Darcy looked on, finding it difficult to resist getting carried away. Captain America was even more ridiculously good-looking in person than she had dared to imagine and maybe it was the jet-lag or the stress of having her life completely uprooted yet again but part of her was aching to grab him and hang on tight. 

He set down his fork and pushed his plate aside, exhaling with a thoroughly contented grin. It was so disarmingly adorable that the bottom dropped right out of her stomach.

"Another?" she asked, arching a brow.

"You don't have anyone else you're saving it for?" he mused.

"Nope," she sighed, sipping her coffee. "When your life's as fucked up as mine, it makes the whole dating thing practically impossible..."

"I know exactly what you mean," he replied, gazing into her eyes warmly. "Seems an awful shame for someone so pretty to be on her own." 

She looked away, reaching for his plate and he grabbed her hand, slowly brushing his thumb across her knuckles. Her eyes flicked up meeting his and the hunger she found there made it hard for her to breathe.

"You still want another slice?" she asked, swallowing thickly.

"Maybe later," he replied, wetting his lips.

"You just want to sit here and hold my hand while I eat my pie?" she teased.

"Nope," he smirked.

"Then what _do_ you want?" she asked, knitting her brows.

"I want to personally apologize to you on behalf of men everywhere for the neglect you've suffered," Steve replied huskily.

"Uhh, thanks?" she replied with a chuckle. "Apology accepted." 

He looked at her, slowly shaking his head from side to side.

"I want to apologize properly," he said. "On my knees in your bedroom with the whipped cream..."

Darcy calmly took another bite of her pie and washed it down with a sip of coffee, pretending to consider his offer as he watched her from across the table. In actual fact, her mind was more than completely made up. At long last, her ship had come in and she was ready to weigh anchor, hoist the mizzen and set sail on the erotic adventure of a lifetime. She leisurely finished her dessert and her coffee, while secretly delighting in keeping him waiting.

Her hand slipped out of his as she slowly stood up from the table and carried the dishes to the sink. His eyes followed, wolfishly raking up and down the length of her body as she covered the remaining pie in plastic wrap and slid it into the fridge. She closed the door and turned around, nearly colliding with a solid wall of burly super soldier. He loomed over her, leaning his arms against the refrigerator and she looked up at him, hardly able to believe that he was real.

"I hope this isn't too forward," he said, searching her eyes. "Being with you today's been the closest I've felt to normal in... God, I don't even know how long. Coming here and then losing Bucky... I need this, Darcy. I need to be close to you."

"Bitch me too," she replied, leaning back against the fridge and gazing up at him with a smile.

"Did you just call me a bitch?" he asked with a frown.

"Better get used to it," she quipped, looping her arms around the back of his neck. "Now how about a kiss, bitch?"

"Ooh. That's really starting to grow on me," he drawled, descending towards her so slowly that it bordered on cruel and unusual punishment. The suspense was killing her as she stood waiting, growing more impatient by the second. She tried to pull him closer and he carried on at a snail's pace, licking his lips enticingly.

"This kiss better be good," she grumbled. 

Steve set his hand at the side of her face and pressed his lips against hers as softly as a whisper. His thumb brushed over her cheek as he withdrew slightly and kissed her again. Her eyes fluttered shut and she hummed a faint approval as he kissed her again and again - each time a little harder, a little longer, a little deeper. 

They resisted the urge to rush, taking their time to explore each other thoroughly and relishing each new discovery. He let himself get lost in the moment and felt everything else melt away until there was only Darcy - the smooth slide of her plush lips against his, warm noises of enjoyment and her index finger tenderly grazing the outer edge of his ear. 

She tried to relax and focus completely on enjoying his kisses but then she remembered that she was kissing Captain America and she was freaking out all over again. As unreal as it seemed, she was making out with the super heroic subject of her tenth grade history report and he kissed every bit as well as he filled out his uniform. The growing wetness between her legs pulsed intensely as she considered his eagerness to give her an opportunity for extra credit. The star-spangled man had one hell of a plan and just thinking about it set her pulse racing.

Her tongue swept over his and things quickly began to spiral into something else entirely, something hot and filthy and urgent. Her arms tightened behind his neck as his large hands settled behind her thighs and effortlessly lifted her up against him. She began to panic as her feet left the ground, twining her legs around his waist and clinging to him tightly.

"It's okay," he chuckled between kisses. "I've got you, sweetheart." 

He stepped away from the fridge and retrieved the can of whipped cream from the kitchen table as he kissed the breath out of her. The layout of her unit mirrored his own and he carefully made his way towards her bedroom, side-stepping an array of cardboard boxes she had yet to unpack. 

He pushed the door open and his eyes widened in disbelief. The room was decorated from top to bottom in Captain America merchandise. The walls were adorned with Captain America posters, her bed was fitted with Captain America sheets, a small shelf was lined with action figures and statuettes and a replica of his shield hung on the wall. 

"Wow," he gasped as his eyes moved across the room, taking it all in. "You've got great taste."

"It came like this," she replied unconvincingly. He set the whipped cream on her nightstand, looking at her skeptically and she diverted her gaze uncomfortably.

"Aww. You don't have to be embarrassed," he drawled, setting her down over the shield emblazoned on her bedspread and covering her body with his own. "It's always nice to meet a fan."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied with a frown. "It was already decorated like this when I moved in. I'm really more of an Iron Man girl to be honest. Now there's a hero!"

"Iron Man?" he bristled. "He's basically just a guy in a suit."

"Yeah but it's a really nice suit," she mused. "Also, he's filthy rich." Steve rolled his eyes dramatically and her lips twisted into a saucy grin.

"That's too bad," he sighed, brushing her hair back from her face. "I was going to offer you an autograph."

"A real fan might appreciate something more intimate," she responded, cocking her brow.

"Oh, yeah? Like what?" he asked quietly.

"Maybe something like a photo op?" she replied. "I mean, that's what I'd like... if I ever met Iron Man."

"I could probably help you out with that," he offered, "if Tony and I ever end up on speaking terms again." Her stomach lurched as his face fell and he cleared his throat.

"Oh, Steve," she sighed. "I'm sorry. I was just-

"No. No need to apologize," he interrupted. "I'm kind of a mess right now. You're sure you still want to get mixed up with this?"

Darcy craned her neck up off the bed and pressed her lips against his. He slid his hand behind her head, digging his fingers into her soft dark hair and pulled her closer, kissing her deeply. She let out a slow breath, relaxing into his embrace and slipped her hand beneath the hem of his shirt, lightly tracing her fingers over the ridges of his muscles. He let out a blissful sigh and she swallowed it down, kissing him harder. She parted her lips, drawing him into her mouth and sucked his tongue suggestively, eliciting a muffled moan that made her insides fluttery. 

"Mmm... You're so good at that," he breathed against her lips. "I could do it all day."

"Sounds like a plan," she replied between kisses. "Bet it'd be more fun if we took off our clothes."

"Guess there's only one way to find out," he said, pressing a quick kiss against her lips. He shifted down the mattress and rose to his feet, looking down at her appreciatively. 

"Woah. Wait!" she called out. "If you're going to strip for me, let me put on some music for you."

"Alright," he shrugged, "but I'm expecting a tip."

"Shit," she muttered. "I left my phone in the kitchen."

"I'll get it for you," he offered, heading out the door into the hallway.

"It's in my purse," she called after him, stripping off her clothes as quickly as possible. "Just bring me the whole thing." She crammed her clothes under the bed and climbed in beneath the covers, stuffing two pillows behind her head and pulling the sheets up to her chin. Her eyes remained fixed on the doorway as she deftly tousled her hair and dug a lipgloss out of her nightstand. She applied it quickly and tossed it back in the drawer just as Steve approached from the hallway.

He stepped back into the room and stopped in his tracks at the sight of her. His eyes moved over the outline of her body under the covers and his hands tightened around the handle of her purse as he imagined what was waiting for him beneath the illustration of his shield. 

"Can I have my purse?" she asked with a smile.

"I don't know," he said, shrugging weakly. "Might depend on what you're wearing under those sheets."

"First you strip for me, then you get to see what's under here," she replied, extending a hand towards him and wiggling her fingers. "My purse, please."

"Ma'am, for security reasons, I'm afraid that I'm going to have to inspect your bag," he said in his best official Captain America voice.

"Oh, don't you dare!" she warned, narrowing her eyes at him dangerously. "Stay out of my purse, Steve! That's not cool."

"If you want it, come get it," he teased. She rolled her eyes and pulled the covers up higher. 

"Let's see what we've got here," he mused reaching his hand into her purse. "A-ha," he crowed, pulling out a small cylinder that resembled a tube of lipgloss and examining it curiously. "I've got your..." She flushed with embarrassment and shifted uncomfortably as he struggled to identify the item. "I've got your-"

"Vibrator," she interrupted. "Congratulations. Now give me my purse and get the fuck out."

"You keep a vibrator in your purse?" he asked, raising a brow. "That's really... really fucking hot." She froze, clutching the sheets as he dropped the bullet back into her purse and stalked towards the bed purposefully. He set her bag on the bedside table and turned towards the mattress, dropping to his knees. 

"I thought you were going to strip for me," she said as he slipped his hands beneath the sheets, reaching for her blindly. 

"I am," he replied, his fingers brushing up against her bare skin as she squirmed away in a fit of laughter, "but first I want to get you off. That a problem?"

"Promise that you'll stay out of my purse and I'm all yours," she responded as his hand wrapped around her ankle and he slowly dragged her towards him. 

"Why? You got something in there that's more exciting than a vibrator?" he mused.

"That's none of your business," she replied, somehow managing to keep herself covered as he pulled her across the mattress. "I'm serious, Steve. My purse is off limits. Capiche?"

"Darcy," he said solemnly, stilling as his eyes met hers, "I'm sorry for going through your purse and it will never happen again. You have my word."

"Thanks," she grinned, drawing the sheets back with measured curls of her fingers. He watched the fabric slip over her ample curves and the muscles in hisbjaw twitched as she slowly laid herself bare. She arched her back and spread her legs, inviting him to take her in. His eyes moved over her greedily as he committed every inch of her to memory and tried to decide where he wanted to start. 

She sat up quickly, grabbed her phone out of her purse and flopped back down with a sigh. He looked at her curiously as her fingers tapped against the screen and music began to play from a bluetooth speaker on top of her dresser.

"Ahh, that's better," she sighed. "The silence was weirding me out. Alright. You 'bout ready to get stripping?"

"But I thought-" he began to reply.

"Change of plans," she cut in. "If I'm naked, you should be too. Fair's fair, right?"

"You're really going to make me do this?" he asked, rising to his feet with a roll of his eyes.

"Hold on," she replied holding up her index finger. "I've got the perfect song."

The corners of her mouth quivered as the opening bars of Black Sabbath's "Iron Man" echoed through the room. He shot her a withering look, shaking his head disappointedly. Her fingers tapped the screen and she loaded up her Rolling Stones playlist. He listened to the intro, bobbing his head along to a tune he actually recognized. He began to move his hips in time with the music, flushing slightly as she watched him and wet her lips in lieu of applause.

 _Ev'rywhere I hear the sound of marching, charging feet, boy._  
_Cause summer's here and the time is right for fighting in the street, boy._

Steve beckoned her towards him with an enticing curl of his finger and she moved to the edge of the bed, setting her mobile next to her purse. She couldn't help staring as he moved closer, just barely brushing up against her as he danced along to the beat. It was too adorably awkward to qualify as a traditional strip tease but she thrilled at the way he had fully committed in spite of any lingering reservations. 

His hands moved to the hem at the front of his shirt and she gazed up at him with a smile.

"Is this what you want?" he asked, looking into her eyes and clutching the fabric tightly.

"Uh huh," she replied, running her hands along the outside of his thighs. "Take it off, baby." 

"Are you allowed to touch me like that?" he asked, peeling his shirt off slowly. "Kinda feels like you're breaking the rules.

She grabbed him by the belt and pressed her lips against his exposed skin as he slipped his shirt off over his head and tossed it aside. He glanced down at her and gradually exhaled, delighting in the warmth of her breath as she unbuckled his belt. His hand tightened in her hair and she let out a harsh gasp as her eyes flicked up towards his.

"I like the way you're undressing me," he purred, continuing to sway in time with the music, "but I thought that _I_ was supposed to be stripping for _you_."

"I'm happy to help," she replied, unbuttoning the front of his pants and lowering his zipper. "Just really happy to be here..." 

He spun around abruptly and bent at the waist, giving her all the perfectly-sculpted super soldier ass she could handle as he slid his pants and briefs down smoothly. She gently traced her index finger up along the back of his thigh and he shuddered delightfully, struggling to remove his socks and step out of his pants. He straightened, rocking his hips to the last few notes of the song as he turned towards her.

"Song's over. Can I stop dancing now?" he asked. She remained silent, gaping at the sight of his formidable erection. "Darcy? It wasn't that bad, was it?"

"Lie down on your back in the middle of the bed," she replied firmly. He complied without the slightest hesitation as she looked on and directed him to slide down the mattress just slightly. "I'm on birth control. Does that kind thing work on you?" 

He replied with a affirmative nod of his head, watching intently as she crawled across the mattress towards him. His tongue darted out, tracing over his lips as she straddled his face with her back towards the headboard. She shook her hips playfully and he took the bait, grabbing her waist and drawing her down against his face, suddenly desperate to taste her.

She called out for him and he hummed obscenely as the sensation of his devilish mouth devouring her overwhelmed her completely. His tongue lightly flickered over her clit and he sucked just enough to leave her aching for more as she writhed above him shamelessly. She leaned forward resting her bandaged hand against his thigh and wrapped the other around the base of his cock, making him twitchy. 

He let out a harsh gasp as she slid him between her plush lips and swirled her tongue over him skillfully. She added some suction and his hand quickly settled at the back of her head, encouraging more. His tongue traced over her faster and she ground down against him, lowering her face and taking him in deeply. 

Their bodies moved together beautifully as they used their mouths to thoroughly explore one another and delighted in the exchange of mind-blowing pleasure. The room filled with their muffled moans as they lost themselves in each other and thoughts of an outside world drifted away.

Things gradually began to snowball as they feasted on each other. He sucked harder, fingers digging into the soft curve of her hip and she let out a distorted cry of his name with her mouth full of his cock. His hand tightened in her hair as the sensation of her voice echoed all the way down to his bones and he called out for her in a hot puff of breath that buffeted her slick skin divinely. 

She sucked harder and he moved faster. She moved faster and he sucked harder. The opening notes of "Satisfaction" filled the room as they reached out for each other more desperately by the second, burning with hot pulsing desire. There was no turning back from their collision course with oblivion as they engaged in an explicit game of Chicken, each determined to get the other off first.

Steve struggled to hold it together as the soft warmth of her mouth surrounded him and his hand gently guided her movements as she took him in so completely that he fully expected her to choke. He flattened his tongue against her clit and her hips bucked against his face instinctively as the rushing of her heartbeat filled her ears. 

Her tongue swept over every thick, throbbing inch, coaxing him to boil over as she reflected on the dirty deliciousness of blowing Captain America while she rode his face. Engaging in such an explicit act with the wholesome national icon was irresistibly thrilling and set her mind racing with thoughts of at least sixty-nine other ways that she might tarnish his spangled stars.

His tongue suddenly began to move again, tracing over her in quick circles as he felt the reins slip from his grasp. She gasped in a breath and his hips jerked up off the mattress erratically as his hands pulled her towards him and they climaxed together in spectacular fashion, lighting each other up like the Fourth of July.

He exhaled sharply in time with each sinful spurt and his eyes rolled back in his head as he surged with pure pulsing pleasure. Her body flooded with a rush of ecstasy as she swallowed down his release, humming blissfully. He revelled in the feeling of her quivering against his lips and colourful bursts appeared behind her eyelids in time with each intense spasm of her deepest reaches. 

She carefully withdrew him from her mouth, resting her hands on his thighs and gently rocked her hips as the pulsing inside of her weakened. He twirled a strand of her hair between his fingers and she thrilled at the slight tremble in his legs that she could feel beneath her hands. His lips moved to the inside of her thigh and he pressed soft kisses against her skin that made her lashes flutter.

She rolled onto her side with a faint groan and he reached out for her, resting his hand over the edge of her ribcage. They lay together basking in the afterglow as "Wild Horses" played quietly in the background. His thumb tenderly brushed over her skin as her heart rate returned to normal and she struggled to stay awake as the warmth radiating off his body threatened to lull her to sleep. 

A loud, familiar hissing jolted her awake as she hovered at the verge of nodding off. She glanced up towards Steve just in time to see him fill his mouth with another shot from the whipped cream can and he moved the nozzle towards her lips with a wicked grin. 

She recoiled, opening her mouth to protest and he interrupted with a blast from the can. Her frown instantly vanished as the cool sweetness hit her tongue and he winked at her as he took another hit. She swallowed, licking her lips and opened her mouth in a silent request for a second helping. The sight had him hard all over again and he scooped her up, pulling her into his arms and claiming her lips, eager to share his creamy mouthful. The can fell from his hand and rolled onto the floor as her tongue swept over his. He kissed her breathless and the hard press of his erection against her thigh made the tender wetness between her legs throb with a twinge of excitement.

"Please tell me you're free for the rest of the day," he breathed against her lips. 

"I am," she said with a smile, "but I hope you aren't just saying that because you're hard again."

"It's not the only reason," he chuckled, holding her tight and pressing a kiss against the corner of her lips. "Just because I'm ready to go, it doesn't mean that we have to do anything. Between your looks and that goddamned mouth of yours, I can't help getting excited, sweetheart."

"My mouth? You're one to talk," she scoffed. "For the record, Captain America gives far better head than the history books led me to believe. I think he actually might've ruined me."

"Good," he replied with a grin. "I don't like the idea of you being with anyone but me."

"We just met and you're already calling dibs?" she marvelled.

"Not calling dibs. Just stating the facts," he responded between slow kisses. "Being with you just feels... right. Maybe we ended up here together for a reason." 

"Careful, Steve," she whispered, brushing her lips against his. "Keep that up and you might sweep me right off my feet."

"Doesn't sound so bad to me," he replied, gazing into her eyes fondly.

"You shoot whipped cream into your mouth straight from the can," she chuckled. "I'm not sure that I can trust your judgement."

"It's my metabolism," he said quietly, nipping at her lower lip. "I'm always hungry. Never quite satisfied. I couldn't resist."

"If you're still hungry, I can get you another slice of pie," she offered. "Unless you're craving something else."

"Hmm... What do you recommend, sweetheart?" he asked with a flick of his brow.

She answered with the solid press of her lips against his and he rolled her over with a growl as the intro to "Gimme Shelter" echoed through the room. Her hand settled at the back of his neck as he worked himself between her thighs and kissed her with an urgency that left no doubt whatsoever about just how badly he wanted her. He slipped a hand between them and went straight for the pulsing heat between her legs, spreading the slickness he found there with deliberate strokes. She broke away, gasping out a string of colourful profanity as her hips bucked up towards him inviting more. 

"Mmm... So wet," he breathed, tracing his lips over the skin at the side of her neck. "Is this for me, sweetheart?"

She hummed an affirmation, rocking against his hand and he chuckled darkly, bathing her in the heat of his breath. He filled her with two thick fingers and she arched her back against the mattress, gasping out his name.

"God, I love the sound of that," he said, rasping his teeth against her. "Say it again."

"Ssssteve," she replied as his fingers slid in and out of her in firm, smooth strokes. 

"Again," he directed, moving faster. "Tell me what you want, sweetheart."

"Oh, fuck, Steve," she moaned desperately. "Oh, Steve, please."

"C'mon," he coaxed, drawing back and searching her eyes as he slowed his movements to a crawl. "Tell me what you want. I'm dying to hear you say it." She took in a deep breath and swallowed hard, mustering up a response as he watched her expectantly.

"I want you," she ground out. "Oh, fuck, Steve... I want to feel you inside of me."

"Thought I already was," he teased. She rolled her eyes with a groan that turned into a moan as his thumb brushed over her clit. The sound made something inside of him snap and he descended on her, kissing her passionately as he gently removed his fingers and guided himself into place, just outside of where she wanted him most. She tilted her hips towards him and he tore his lips away with a gasp of her name as her slick warmth met him invitingly. 

"Again," she said with a saucy grin. "Say it again."

"Mmm... Darcy," he sighed, kissing her slowly.

"Again," she purred. "Tell me what you want."

"You," he breathed against her lips. "I want to make this so good for you, Darcy."

Her brain fully short-circuited in response to his softly spoken words, leaving her uncharacteristically speechless as she surged with arousal. He eyed her hungrily, biting into his lower lip as he grabbed a handful of her hip and drove himself into her with a solid stroke. She called out for him, overwhelmed by the delightful stretch of every rigid inch filling her to the brim. His eyes snapped shut and he rested his forehead against hers, letting out a shaky breath as her tight heat completely consumed him. 

Her hands glided across the tops of his shoulders and settled over his biceps, squeezing gently as she gazed up at his ridiculously handsome face in disbelief. The corners of his lips turned up into a filthy grin as he caught her staring and he began slowly thrusting into her with smooth strokes. Her fingers tightened around his arms and she moaned obscenely, finding no give whatsoever. 

He smothered her cries with a solid press of his lips and kissed her so deeply that she nearly forgot how to breathe. Her legs encircled him and she met him thrust for thrust as she throbbed in time with the twitching of the powerful muscles beneath her palms.

His hand slid over the side of her body, taking in her curves eagerly as he continued to press into her with measured strokes and kiss her sensuously. She turned her head, gasping for breath as his fingers roughly rolled her nipple and he chased after her lips placing soft kisses against her skin as he went. 

"You like that, sweetheart?" he asked with a snap of his hips. She responded with an low whine as he began to drive himself into her harder. His hand moved from her breast to her chin, grasping it firmly and turned her face towards his own. She met his gaze and they stared into each other's eyes intimately as the mattress squeaked in time with "Honky Tonk Women." 

"You feel so goddamned good," he sighed, stroking his thumb over her lower lip. "I know what I'll be thinking about the next time I hear this song."

"My squeaky mattress?" she asked with a smile that made his stomach flip. 

"That's part of it," he replied, wetting his lips. "Open your mouth, sweetheart." She did as requested and he slid his fingers between her lips. It was the same hand that had been jammed between her legs earlier and the taste danced across her tongue enticingly. Before he could say another word, she began sucking and swirling her tongue over his fingers with an insatiable hum. His mouth dropped open and his movements stuttered as she sucked his fingers clean. The way he was watching made her skin ripple with goosebumps as the throbbing inside of her reached a fever pitch. 

"Harder," she spat in a garbled mess around his fingers. 

"Like this?" he asked, increasing the speed and intensity of his strokes. She nodded enthusiastically, burning for more.

"Harder," she repeated with increasing urgency.

"Better?" he asked, thrusting into her vigorously. She sucked his fingers savagely, gazing into his eyes and silently pleading for more. He pulled his hand away from her mouth and rocked back onto his knees, grasping her by the ankles and repositioning her forcefully. She looked up at him, thrilling with excitement as his strong hands moved her just the way he wanted. He settled her ankles against his shoulders and reseated himself inside her, driving out a sharp cry of his name as Mick Jagger declared it 'a gas, gas, gas.'

The rush of her heart beat filled her ears as he leaned forward and lit into her with blistering intensity, firmly rubbing his thumb over her clit. Each thrust forced out sharp puffs of her breath, winding her tighter and testing the limits of her bed frame. The muscles in his jaw tightened as he forced the air from her lungs and she looked up at him hungry for more. 

"You gotta come for me," he insisted, wincing slightly. "I don't know how much more of you I can take. C'mon, sweetheart. You're killing me."

_Captain America was begging her for mercy._

It was so outrageously hot that she could barely stand it. She took in a breath as his thumb brushed over her slick, sensitive skin and her eyes snapped shut as her climax bloomed exquisitely. He watched her unravel, writhing against the sheets beneath him as her face contorted in ecstasy and it was easily the prettiest thing he had ever seen. Every inch of her pulsed with pleasure so intense that it left her shivering and moaning incomprehensibly as a galaxy of stars burst behind her eyelids. It was so warm and beautiful that part of her wished that she could stay there forever. He tried to give her as much time as he could to enjoy the moment but between her flushed and dewy skin and the feeling of her pulsing around him, it was more than he could manage.

"Darcy," Steve gasped, grasping her hip and hanging by a thread. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his and she covered his hand with her own. 

"I'm here," she whispered, gazing into his eyes heatedly. "You made it so good for me. Now it's your turn. C'mon and give it to me. I want it so bad." She gently squeezed his hand and he suddenly crumbled, calling out for her and driving himself into her erratically as he filled her with the rush of his release. 

She studied him carefully as a look of sheer bliss coloured his features. It suited him far better than the expression she'd observed when he mentioned Bucky Barnes or Tony Stark. Her cheeks ached and she realized that she was grinning like an idiot. Maybe Steve was right. Maybe they had ended up together in Wakanda for a reason. Maybe they could find some happiness together. 

As she remained lost in thought, Steve gently withdrew from her and snuggled in beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. He pressed soft kisses against every inch of her skin, thanking her again and again for giving him everything he'd needed so badly. 

She quickly tidied up with some tissues, too spent to make it to the washroom. He seemed too busy nuzzling her neck and feeling her up to notice. The music was over and she melted into the warm security of his strong arms as they lay tangled up together in the silence of her room. He held her tightly as her eyes grew heavy and she slowly drifted off to sleep to the steady rhythm of his breathing.

She roused with a start, struggling through a brief moment of confusion at her unusual surroundings. She was in her room, in bed... and alone. Outside of her window, the sun was setting on another day in Wakanda. Her face fell as she realized that Captain America had pulled the old Smash and Dash on her. She got up out of bed, stretching lazily and slipped on her robe. 

The moment she opened her bedroom door, the rich, smoky smell of bacon overwhelmed her. A second, lighter aroma wafted through the air along with it, warm and buttery with a hint of vanilla. She quietly approached the kitchen as Steve stood washing up at the sink. Steaming plates of bacon, scrambled eggs and an enormous stack of pancakes sat on the countertop beside him. 

_Captain America had cooked her breakfast for dinner._

"I was just about to come and wake you up," he said, without turning away from the dishes. "I fixed us something to eat. Hopefully, I didn't make too much of a mess-"

"It looks so good," she interrupted, running her hands over the strings of his frilly pink apron as she slipped her arms around his waist and pressed the side of her face against his back. "I didn't even know I had bacon in my fridge."

"You didn't," he replied, drying his hands off on a dish towel. "I popped back to my place and picked up a few things. I'm just a few doors down the hallway."

"Is that where this came from?" she chuckled, tugging on his pink polka-dot apron.

"It was a Christmas gift from Fury," he replied, turning towards her with a smile. "I didn't have the guts to ask whether he meant it as a gag. It does the trick and throwing away something useful seems like a waste, so..."

"I love it," she sighed, as his powerful arms surrounded her, drawing her closer. "I... I thought you'd left."

"Oh, no. I'm sorry," he responded, gazing at her fondly. "I got hungry and I didn't want to wake you. Don't know if I could've even if I'd tried."

"It's alright," she said, staring into his warm blue eyes. "I'm glad you're still here."

"Me too," he said, leaning in and brushing his lips over hers. She reached up, hooking her arms around the back of his neck and kissed him senseless.

"As much as I'm enjoying this, we oughta dig in while it's still hot," he chuckled, breaking away reluctantly.

"Okay," she responded with a quick kiss, "but after dinner, we're spending the rest of the night making out on the couch. You're staying, right?"

"Of course," he said giving her another soft kiss. "You aren't gonna get rid of me that easily, sweetheart."

He guided her towards the kitchen table and smoothly pulled out her chair, inviting her to sit down. She took a seat and he pushed her in, setting his large hands over her shoulders and giving her a gentle squeeze.

"Oh, my God! Is that maple syrup?" she gasped as she inspected the precisely set table. "I'm crushing on you so hard right now, dude."

Steve delivered the food to the table, laughing quietly and slid into the opposite seat. They loaded their plates, stealing furtive glances at each other and neither could remember the last time they'd felt quite as happy. As she liberally poured syrup over everything on her plate, a soft knocking came from the direction of the door to her apartment. Steve's eyes widened in astonishment as it slowly opened and Bucky's head appeared in the doorway.

"I thought I smelled bacon," he said with a grin. "And pancakes too? Stevie, you really shouldn't have..."


End file.
